


when the cricket came

by annasotropy



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mystery, No Beta, Pining, Romance, Sabotage, kirk is ridiculously into spock and trying really really hard to play it cool, vulcan gardens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28098207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annasotropy/pseuds/annasotropy
Summary: While on a routine visit to Vulcan, Sarek discovers a sabotage to the Enterprise's fuel systems, leaving them stuck in Vulcan orbit with a potential imposter. Convinced the imposter wants something more than the destruction of a starship, Kirk and Spock begin a quiet investigation from the planet below.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. dust

Anyone who complained about the sky falling on Earth had obviously never been to Vulcan. 

Three hours into their trek up the mountainside and Jim was beginning to regret not bringing those tri-ox hypos Bones always tried to force on him whenever he made it planetside. There was a dry heat with a drier breeze that carried loose, dry soil from the path and plastered it all against Jim’s hot,  _ sweaty  _ body. Every grain of sand feels like an extra limb pulling him closer to the planet’s core. If he thought Spock would enjoy it, Jim would compare himself to Atlas, holding the weight of the stars on his shoulders so their crew could get home. But he wouldn’t. So he won’t. 

“Remind me again of why I’m doing this?”

“The journey was your idea, Captain. You expressed a desire to visit sites of Vulcan heritage, and the proximity of Mount Seleya made it a logical choice.”

Of course.

Jim tries for a bitter laugh, but it comes out as more of a series of short, staccato breaths. Naturally. “Of course, Commander, thank you,” he replies, focusing intently on the ground below instead of the long,  _ steep  _ winding path ahead. Slow as his steps feel, his footing is solid, so it surprises him when he collides with something. Stumbling and looking up in surprise, he manages to wave his arms in just the right direction of wildness for Spock to catch his forearm and pull him back to balance. Jim glances at his bare arm, held securely within Spock’s long,  _ bare  _ fingers. He gulps, making eye contact with the man and nodding his thanks. The fingers slip away.

“Jim,” Spock says, “do not push yourself to the brink of exhaustion. We may turn around at any point.”

“And leave the hike unfinished? No way!” Jim straightens to prove it, and makes his way to a large rock, half-shrouded in shade, and leaned against the cool face. “I’m fine, Mister Spock, though I  _ will  _ need a moment now that you’ve got me stopped.”

“One incomplete journey in no way reflects negatively on your performance as a Captain, as a friend, or as a person,” Spock says. “Surely you are aware of this.”

Jim rolls his eyes, taking a deep, dry breath before pushing himself upright once more. “Yes, yes. Let’s keep moving so I never have to find out if you’re right.”

A comm chirp rings out against the stone. Kirk falls back against his rock, wiping one hand across his brow as he pulls his communicator out with the other. He looks over to Spock-- who has his communicator open already, with no message, and a raised eyebrow--and flips his unit open.

“Kirk here.”

_ “Scott here, sir. Sorry t’interrupt yer leave. How’re ya doin’ with the hike? We’ve got a visitor here on Enterprise gunnin’ to see ya.” _

Spock’s brow furrows minutely as he walks over to Jim, bending slightly to better hear and be heard by the device. 

“Spock here, Mister Scott. Is this visitor presently aboard  _ Enterprise?” _

_ “Yessir, he beamed up but a moment ago. It’s Ambassador Sarek, sirs, he did say the matter was urgent.” _

“A moment, Mister Scott,” Spock replies, reaching across Jim’s body to close the communicator. 

Jim huffs, “You okay, Spock?”

Face falling blank again, Spock replies, “We must return to  _ Enterprise.” _

“To see your dad?”

“Yes, Jim.”

“Who we saw this morning.”

“Yes, Jim.”

“Didn’t you tell him we’d be hiking today?”

Spock’s eyes narrow.  _ “Yes, _ Captain.”

Jim bristles at the change in tone. “Okay, Commander, message received.” Surveying the area, he flips open his communicator: “Kirk to Bridge; we’re under something of an enclosure at the moment but will alert you as soon as we’ve moved to open ground so you can get a better fix on us. Tell Lieutenant Kyle to wait for our signal and to abort the transport if anything looks fishy.”

_ “Aye, Captain. Scott out.” _

Jim snaps his communicator closed and turns fully towards Spock, trying to raise an eyebrow of his own. He fails, but it doesn’t matter: Spock doesn’t react anyways. Jim sighs.

“Are you gonna tell me what this is all about?” he asks, standing again. He rolls his shoulders backwards, but it’s no use. The gravity here is simply more than his body is used to. 

Spock starts back towards the path. “No,” he replies.

Jim laughs, the pressure of it hurting his abdomen and turning the gesture into a painful cough. He sighs again. Damned Vulcan atmosphere. “Okay, Mister Spock, you’re lucky I trust you. You wouldn’t abandon a task for something unimportant. Even if that thing you’re abandoning is an objectionably awful hike with me.” He smirks lightly. Spock opens his mouth, as if to argue, but Jim opens his communicator and cuts him off. “Kirk to  _ Enterprise,  _ two to beam up.”

_ “Aye, sir.” _

“Jim--” Spock begins, but he’s quickly cut off by the familiar whirring sound that accompanies the feeling of molecules being torn apart.

A blink later, Jim is back in the familiar grey and the artificial atmosphere of  _ Enterprise’s  _ transporter room. He looks to his left; Spock straightens again, pulling any emotion that may have come out back deep inside in an almost instantaneous transition to professionalism. He sighs. If only humans could do the same.

“Welcome back, Captain, Commander,” says Lieutenant Kyle, already looking back down at his console. “No unusual effects from the transport detected. Ambassador Sarek has been escorted to the briefing room in anticipation of your arrival.”

Jim nods. “Very good, Lieutenant, thank you,” he replies, jumping off the platform. As Spock steps carefully down behind him, he finds himself absentmindedly smoothing the dirty  _ Riverside Chess Club _ tee and athletic shorts he’d put on that morning when they assumed they’d have the whole day on leave. “Any indication of how urgent the matter is?”

“The Ambassador awaits us, Captain,” Spock says.

“Nevermind,” Jim grumbles, waving for Spock to follow him through the opening hydraulic doors.

When the Commander falls easily into step next to him, Jim lets his mind wander. Spock had worn Vulcan robes on their hike--it was his planet, after all, and and the outrageous heat and pressure were somehow  _ relaxing  _ to him--but picturing the two of them, side-by-side, looking half the picture of Vulcan composure and half like a forgotten scrap of last week’s lunch, made his insides crawl. 

Spock looked nice, of course. The robes were a warm grey, fitted through the torso, and plain enough that they almost looked reasonable for an activity like a hike in the mountains. And his hair, mussed ever so slightly by the mountain breeze, makes him look almost relaxed. Almost.

The turbolift doors slam shut.

“Are you alright, Captain?” Spock asks, turning entirely towards Jim. 

“Quite,” he replies, looking down again at his clothing. There’s a thin layer of dust covering most of him that’s better visible in the fluorescent lights of the lift than it was in the transporter room, and he’s fairly certain his sweat stained his shirt. “You don’t think your dad’ll judge me too much based on my outfit, right, Spock?”

“To do so would be decidedly un-Vulcan,” the Commander replies.

“Right, right.” He wipes his eyebrow, and his finger comes away with small chunks of sweat-mud. Damn Earth and her water. “Still wish I could shower first and make myself look more captain-y. Do you really have to look so damn professional all the time?”

Spock is silent. Jim sighs as they come to a stop.

Sarek is not, in fact, waiting in the briefing room, as they discover when he greets them with a  _ ta’al  _ from behind opening turbolift doors. Next to him, Spock reproduces the gesture easily, earning a nod from the ambassador. Jim fumbles, but gets his hand up more than quickly enough. Sarek’s eyes skim his body and Jim does  _ not  _ gulp when the Vulcan furrows his eyebrows just a touch.  _ And to think I assumed he got that from Amanda…. _

“Captain, Commander.”

“Ambassador Sarek, welcome back to the  _ Enterprise.  _ If you’ll follow Commander Spock and I to the briefing room?” Jim confidently strides past him, extending what he hopes is a welcoming gesture. Do Vulcans appreciate that kind of thing?

“That would be most agreeable,” the man replies. So, yes. Then, a few feet further down the hall: “I regret the interruption of your excursion.”

“I’m sure your reasoning is perfectly logical,” Jim jokes. Two pairs of Vulcan eyes immediately turn to him. He opens the briefing room doors. “...Gentlemen.”

The doors are barely closed behind them when Sarek begins, “the Vulcan Science Institute has completed its evaluation of your fuel efficiency systems.” 

Jim looks at Spock, who is raising an eyebrow. Well, looks like this evaluation is a surprise to both of them. “Have they now? I don’t remember requesting any such inquiry.”

“You did not, Captain. The investigation was requested by Montgomery Scott at 2247 hours ship’s time while Commander Spock and yourself were on leave on the planet’s surface.”

“Then why--” Jim stops instinctively, glancing again at Spock. Sure enough, his first officer is staring at him, clearly projecting  _ something  _ Jim simply can’t translate. He sighs. “I apologize, Ambassador. Additional opinions are always logical, especially when the situation remains unclear, and the Vulcan Science Institute is a trusted ally of Starfleet. My anxieties stem from my crew not alerting me, not from suspicion of you or the Institute. Please, continue.”

Sarek extends a data chip to his son. It’s purple, for some reason, and sticks out against the sea of reds, greens, and yellows when Spock inserts it into the reader. He leans back to scan the data.

“It appears that our power converters are not able to generate the amount of power  _ Enterprise  _ needs.”

“Excuse me?” Jim jumps out of his chair, squinting to read the screen from over Spock’s shoulder. “They were operating just fine yesterday! Were we attacked without notifying us, too, or what?”

“No Captain, if you will look here,” Spock replies, pointing at the chart. He pushes a button and it moves, slowly reordering percentages. “While it appears that we are operating under normal parameters, 

Jim groans quietly, massaging his temples. This was supposed to be a quick diplomatic stop and a few days’ climate-appropriate leave for his Vulcan first officer, that’s it. “We won’t be able to do much more than maintain orbit at that rate.” He turns to Sarek, who remains unphased and expressionless. “How did you find out about this?”

“I was informed of the unexpected nature of your extended stay in Vulcan space. As the ambassador to Terra and the father of one of your officers, I felt it my duty to ensure the safety of your ship and crew,” Sarek replies. “Your engineer agreed and brought a small team of scientists, including myself, aboard your ship. The findings are most peculiar, and I will leave your teams to interpret them within the context of your vessel. However, if I were in your position, Captain, I would consider all possibilities.”

“Are you seriously suggesting we have a mole after you board the ship in secret?” Jim asks.

Spock is watching Sarek closely now, his hands folding idly together in his lap. “Your foresight is commendable, Ambassador,” he says, “but unnecessary. As I informed you in my message,  _ Enterprise  _ is merely experiencing minor technical difficulties associated with her extended voyage.”

“Is she?” Sarek asks, standing, keeping his eyes trained on Spock. 

“These readings indicate nothing more than a sensor malfunction,” Spock replies.

Jim stands, too, following the man’s lead; he manages to keep his visible surprise to a widening of the eyes when Sarek turns quickly to face him. “Your ship is welcome to stay in Vulcan’s orbit as long as necessary, Captain. Please do not hesitate to alert the Council should you require any additional resources in your investigation.”

“Thank you, Ambassador. Shall we accompany you to transporters?”

“Have you learned so little in our time together, James?” Sarek asks. “No. A crewman can accompany if security is what you fear. Do you not have more important duties to attend to than playing tour guide?” He walks briskly to the door, stopping for just a moment to remark, “I expect we will be seeing much of each other until this matter is resolved.”

“Of course, Sarek,” Jim answers, allowing only a momentary anger before giving orders to a security ensign walking by. He turns back to their guest. “Live long and prosper, Ambassador.”

“Peace and long life, Captain, Commander,” the Vulcan replies.

Jim and Spock watch Sarek turn the corner and enter the turbolift before Jim reaches for the communicator panel on the wall.

“Kirk to transporter room; Kyle, are you still down there?”

_ “Kyle here, sir.” _

“Ambassador Sarek is headed your way. Please inform me when he is safely planetside. I’ll wait by the briefing room,” he requests.

_ “Of course, Captain. Kyle out.” _

“How did you know?” Jim hisses, carefully watching each crewmember who walks by. “Have you been keeping information from me?”

“If you truly believe I have, I have been underperforming my duties as your first officer, Captain,” Spock replies evenly. “I was made aware of the situation at the same time as you.”

“No, you said we needed to beam back to  _ Enterprise.  _ You made it sound urgent.” Spock inhales: “No-- stop, alright, I know you said it as emotionlessly as ever, but it’s not like you to just shut me down like you did on Seleya. What’s going on? Is it because it’s Sarek?”

The unit chirps again.  _ “Transporter room to Captain Kirk.” _

“Kirk here. All okay, Kyle?”

_ “The ambassador has returned to Vulcan.” _

Jim exhales slowly. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Kirk out.”

Spock begins walking towards the turbolift, and Jim jogs a few steps to catch up. When he falls back into step, Spock continues, “My father would not enter the  _ Enterprise  _ uninvited without sufficient reason.”

“Clearly he did last night, too!” Spock says nothing, reveals nothing. Jim throws his hands up in defeat. They’re not glaring, but from the stares they’re getting Jim would bet it’s clear they’ve been disagreeing about something. Although, the two of them still look quite the pair, dust-covered walking next to eerily clean. The hike was nice. Maybe he could convince Spock to go to Seleya again next time they’re near Vulcan. He tries to roll his shoulder again: still far too stiff. 

Spock has a few more steps to take to get to his own quarters, so Jim breaks the silence with a tired, “Look, I need to go shower and check in with Engineering. Can you report to the bridge and try to contact Starfleet again? I want to make sure they’re up to date on the Institute’s findings. We can swap when I’m done, if you want. I’d offer the shower to you first, but--” he gestures again at himself. God, these clothes are really starting to itch.

“I do not require a shower at this time. Resuming my daily routine will be sufficient. I will notify the bridge of our change in schedule.” Jim nods, turning to enter his cabin, when he feels the lightest of touches brush against his shoulder. “Jim,” Spock says, lower, “I regret the interruption to our hike.”

Jim leaves his dirtied clothes crumpled on the shared bathroom floor when he climbs into the shower and absolutely refuses to look anywhere but straight ahead of him, at the back of the stall. For a moment, he stands there, dust-covered and naked, and finally lets his anger flow through him. How dare Sarek invade his ship only to accuse him of harboring a mole? How dare Vulcan be so damn hot and so damn dry? 

A water shower is needed today, he reasons, as he pulls a streak of dust off his leg with a finger. Even at his own touch his mind wanders back through that door he was  _ so  _ close to avoiding and into Spock’s quarters where, at this very moment, his first officer is likely pulling off those Vulcan robes. Never mind the fact that Spock would be immediately changing into uniform--Jim’s idle daydream won’t move forward to the two of them back on the bridge, surrounded by their fellow officers and potentially Spock’s dad,  _ fully clothed.  _ He’s there, in his quarters, maybe ten feet and some durasteel separating them...

Oh, he was so fucked.

God,  _ no, _ if only--

He slams his forehead against the wall and turns on the water. Yeah. This is going to be a long, hard day.

_ Fuck. _


	2. soil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk and Spock have a chat with the admiralty about their situation.

A few minutes and a message to Starfleet later, Jim makes his way back to the Bridge, thankful that the senior staff had agreed to stay on their normal schedules for this first day in favor of collective leave while Jim and Spock came back… well, tonight, he supposed. So much for that.

“Change of plans, everyone,” he announces as he settles back into the Captain’s chair. “We’ll be on Vulcan for a bit longer than our original plans. Nothing’s official yet, so don’t go making elaborate plans, but keep it in mind. I’ll be making a shipwide announcement when the details are clear.”

“Is everything alright, sir?” Sulu asks. 

“Absolutely,” Jim replies with what he hopes comes off as confidence. “Routine starship business.”

He looks up at Spock, who has moved from his station to stand by Jim’s side. “Are you certain this is something you should be announcing, Captain?” he asks quietly.

“They’ll find out soon enough, Spock,” Jim replies, just as low. “Especially with Sarek’s visit. I still don’t understand why he had to come all the way up to _Enterprise_ if all he had was a datachip. Are we still going back there tonight?”

“If you wish it,” Spock replies, unhelpfully. Jim sighs, flipping the purple datachip over in his hand. _If only the small console in his chair were equipped to handle this type of file,_ he laments. He needs to get a better feel for that file, needs to understand its secrets….

Jim gestures back to Spock’s station with his head, pulling out one of the newer PADDs. Spock raises an eyebrow, nodding almost imperceptibly as he walks away from Kirk’s center seat.

\--

_[INTERNAL COMMUNICATION]_

_ENCRYPTION: SECURE_

_CHANNEL: N/A_

> **Kirk:**
> 
> _Hey. Do you trust your dad?_
> 
> **Spock:**
> 
> _Vulcans do not lie._
> 
> **Kirk:**
> 
> _Is that a yes?_
> 
> **Spock:**
> 
> _If you are questioning the validity of Sarek’s report, please be assured that I am investigating several related possibilities._
> 
> **Kirk:**
> 
> _We can’t announce it to the crew. The mole would jump ship._
> 
> **Spock:**
> 
> _Your conclusion is logical. However, when and how do you anticipate this imposter will depart?_
> 
> **Kirk:**
> 
> _I’m waiting on a call from Nogura to discuss extended shore leave while we’re here._
> 
> **Spock:**
> 
> _Is that wise?_
> 
> **Kirk:**
> 
> _It’d be more suspicious if we stayed in orbit but cut shore leave short._
> 
> **Kirk:**
> 
> _You’ve seen the rosters. Nobody really wants to go planetside anyways. Sorry._
> 
> **Spock:**
> 
> _The apology is quite unnecessary._
> 
> **Kirk:**
> 
> _Nah._
> 
> **Spock:**
> 
> _“Yeah.”_
> 
> **Kirk:**
> 
> _:0 excuse me!_
> 
> **Spock:**
> 
> _I was attempting to “banter.” Was it not successful?_
> 
> **Kirk:**
> 
> _HA! No you did great I was surprised is all_
> 
> **_Spock is typing..._ **

“Captain?”

Uhura’s voice, tone purposefully loud and intrusive, snaps Jim out of his thoughts. He turns in his chair to face her: “Yes, Lieutenant?”

Uhura taps her earpiece twice, looking almost apologetic. “Admiral Nogura wishes to speak with you, sir.”

Jim nods, standing quickly. His joints pop a bit at the sudden motion but he pushes his discomfort to the back of his mind, instead replying, “Wonderful, thank you. I’ll speak to him in briefing room 1, if you please. Spock?” 

“Aye, Captain, rerouting now.” Uhura frowns as both men grab their PADDs and fall easily into place in the turbolift. To her credit, Jim can’t remember any time he’d ever described calls with Nogura as “wonderful,” let alone unannounced ones he pulls Spock onto. And the Vulcan’s easy compliance, without even a question of intent--

“Lieutenant Uhura already knows something’s up, I can feel it,” Jim says.

“I have found,” Spock replies, “that Nyota is both brilliant and discreet.”

Jim smiles somewhat hesitantly. “That she is. I only wonder how long it will be before word gets out to the crew.”

All things considered, this is the busiest day they’ve had in a while, and JIm is more than glad that everything is happening in friendly territory. If they were in deep, unexplored space, who knows what would have happened? _Well, the indigenous population would,_ Jim thinks, but presses on when their motion stops.

There is little surprise from the crew when the turbolift doors open and they spill out into the ship’s hallways. Most of the younger officers likely know he and Spock are technically off-duty, Jim supposes, but nothing more; why shouldn’t he be freshly showered and heading towards the briefing rooms? He is the Captain after all, and not a friend--a fact he reminds himself of constantly, despite his actions sometimes betraying him--and has a duty to fulfil that precedes any personal desires.

“Kirk to Admiral Nogura,” he says, jabbing generally at the receiving button on the console. “Apologies for the delay, but this is a sensitive matter.”

For a moment, the room is entirely still with the silence of Kirk, Spock, and the subspace-delayed Nogura between them. They’re only on Vulcan: the transmission takes too long. Kirk is suspicious until a second later, when Nogura laughs.

“Kirk, my old friend!” he exclaims. “What a pleasant surprise to hear from you. How is space?” he asks. 

“Cold,” Jim replies truthfully, earning him a side-glance of silent approval from Spock. “That’s hardly the most important question here. How are you?”

Nogura sighs quickly. “I’m fine, Jim, but you and I both know how expensive these calls are. This isn’t the time for chitchat. I read the preliminary report you sent in your request. ”

Spock straightens in his chair next to Jim’s. “Sir, although we have yet to confirm the totality of the information provided by the Vulcan Science Institute, it is clear that our systems are malfunctioning. It would be unwise for the _Enterprise_ to proceed into open space at this time.”

Nogura nods easily on the viewscreen. “Well, I can’t say we’re pleased about this, but I agree with your assessment, Captain, Commander. The Vulcans are trusted allies of Starfleet, as you are well aware, and we can’t have our flagship stalling in transit if we can prevent it. Extend your stay in orbit to a full week. And tell me more about this security concern.”

“Yes, Admiral,” Spock replies. “Concern lies in the nature of our mechanical difficulties. As noted, _Enterprise’s_ internal sensors did not report any anomalies, suggesting they were disguised by external subroutines and code. We, as well as Ambassador Sarek, believe that this is an intentional act of sabotage, though to what end remains uncertain.”

A pause. “And you’ve alerted your crew?”

Kirk frowns. “No sir. Right now, we lack information to make an accurate judgement. The damages do not seem malicious, and we are choosing to play it cool to gather as much information as possible before potentially clueing anybody in.” he breathes. “We didn’t have any issues until now,” he continues, checking for a reaction from Spock before continuing. A quirked eyebrow? Great. “If we picked someone up, it was probably sometime after Capella. They want us here, and we still have no idea why. This could be much bigger than _Enterprise._ ”

Nogura looks up in thought, scratching at the base of his neck. “Okay…” he says, frowning. “How do you plan on preventing suspicion?”

“We will describe unanticipated diplomatic discussions between Starfleet and the Vulcan Institutes,” Spock says. _Has he been planning this?_ “And extend general leave for the crew. The Captain has recognized the low interest in leaving the ship to visit Vulcan in particular. It is unlikely that we will 

“Won’t you raise your imposter’s suspicions by staying in orbit?” Nogura asks.

“Only if Commander Spock and I don’t seem busy,” Kirk says. He’s beginning to see the genius in Spock’s improvised plan, and continues, “so we’ll do most of our investigations remotely by secure communications with key personnel from Vulcan itself.” he looks at Spock, raising his eyebrows and hoping that the Vulcan recognizes that as a cue to continue.

“We will spend our time in the city of Shi’Kahr, at my family’s home,” Spock says evenly. “As Captain of the _Enterprise_ and the son of the Vulcan ambassador, it is most logical that we would be the two crewmembers most directly involved in diplomatic matters.”

Jim frowns, glancing at Spock out of the corner of his eye. “Are you suggesting we lie?” he whispers. “Are you okay with that?”

Spock remains silent long enough for Nogura to respond, even when factoring in the communication’s lag time. The microphone must not have picked up on his mutterings. “You will continue to work closely with the Vulcan Science Institute,” the Admiral says decisively, “and correspond frequently with other key officers to determine the nature of this sabotage while largely remaining on Vulcan’s surface. Keep Starfleet updated with any findings or ideas. Or prisoners. Discretion is a good idea, keep that up. You think you can get everything done in a week?”

“Yes,” Jim responds, “absolutely. If not even sooner.”

“Alright then, Captain, Commander. You have your orders. Stay cautious. Oh, and Commander Spock, please thank the Ambassador for his assistance on acquiring and interpreting these reports,” Nogura says. 

Jim bristles, still uncomfortable with Sarek boarding and examining his ship unexpectedly. A breath later, though, and Spock is still calm at his side, waiting for his captain to conclude the call. “Of course, sir,” he responds, “as soon as possible.”

A few seconds go by. The picture of Nogura on the screen before them is moving but blank-faced, betraying no emotion. Jim wonders offhandedly if humans could understand Vulcan society more simply by slowing everything down just a bit. Then again, decreasing efficiency wouldn’t be logical, would it?

 _“Indeed not, Captain,”_ the Spock in his head says. Jim keeps his face neutral. So he’s hearing voices now, _kaiidth,_ so it would always be. He puts his hand on the table, near enough to the console to appear to be preparing for the end of their transmission but open enough to invite a touch or, stars willing, a gentle reassuring caress, if his companion so desired. 

“Excellent, Captain. And Kirk--good luck,” Nogura says on the monitor.

“Thank you, Admiral,” Jim replies with a smile, but by the time it’s out of his mouth the transmission is cut on the other end. He sighs, folding into himself and leaning heavily against the chair-back as he processes whatever it was that he learned on that call. “Okay, Spock; your confidence and thorough planning are appreciated, as always. But how exactly do you plan to convince your father to let us stay in your home for a week, especially now that we’ve got our own business up here?”

Spock closes his eyes briefly, as if deep in thought. “My father has been troubled as of late,” he replies carefully. “I do not believe he will be spending much time in the home until this matter is resolved. As such, my mother will grow… lonely.”

Jim laughs, relaxing into the chair and turning it to fully face Spock. “Okay,” he says, “but we need to tell Bones.”

“Is it absolutely necessary to alert the Doctor on security matters?” Spock asks.

Jim rolls his eyes, placing a cautious hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder as he leads him into the turbolift. “If anyone is injured, he’ll need to know how,” Jim says. “And he interacts with the crew more than we do, generally speaking, so he might even be able to help us. We just need to be quiet about it. Besides, it’s Bones. He loves me. How badly could this go?”

\--

“You fools walk into my sickbay under the guise of illness and injury, worry me outta my mind, barricade us in my office, turn off the goddamn lights, and _dare_ to pull this _Sherlock Holmes bullshit?”_

Illuminated primarily by the glow of Sarek’s report on his computer terminal, McCoy is bright red and absolutely fuming. Jim looks at Spock for support, but his first officer has closed his eyes and made it very clear that he does _not_ want to be here. Fine, Jim will just have to do it himself.

“What do you want me to say, Bones? _A game is afoot?_ We can’t trust anybody else with this intel, I thought you’d be excited to be in non-threatening danger for once.”

McCoy slams a fist down on his terminal, plunging the room into total darkness. “You _asshole_ ,” he growls, “what about my life, huh? Might as well have gotten the cardiac stimulator ready with the heart attack you two almost gave me. Computer, lights up.”

Jim barely catches Spock’s scrunched face before the Vulcan says, “Computer, dim to 50%.” 

“Second eyelid malfunctioning, huh, Spock?” McCoy asks, relaxing back into his chair again and rubbing his eyes wearily. “God, this mission is so weird. ‘It’s just five years,’ you said. ‘It’ll be a great adventure,’ you said.” McCoy stands and shoves his finger into Jim’s chest. “Never again.”

“Are you resigning your commission, Doctor?” asks Spock. “Computer, lights to full.”

“Wouldn’t you like to see the day,” McCoy responds, shoving past Jim to punch his override code into the door panel. The door slides open. “So, who else knows?”

“Nobody,” Jim says. “Ideally it’s nothing, but you probably see the whole crew most often. Let us know if you see anything, yeah? And just keep quiet for a few days until we tell the whole senior staff. ”

“Just get outta here.”

“Bye, Bones!” he sings, chuckling as the sickbay doors slam shut behind them.

\--

The thing to know about James T. Kirk is that while he doesn’t do things by halves, he isn’t necessarily opposed to shaving a little of this or a little of that off any given project when the exposed bits get to soak up the sun.

This time, of course, _Jim_ is the one being exposed, and he finds himself to be immensely grateful that they’ve arrived at Spock’s family home late in the afternoon, when the sun begins to fall behind Lady Amanda’s garden walls and the heat radiating back up from the sands and soils is a comfort rather than a bother.

Amanda fusses over them when they finally transport down, again escorting Jim through the house to stow the larger bag prepared for his extended stay. Anxiety rises when Jim takes off his shoes at the entryway and is forced to look at his feet, covered only by once-purple socks that had the sense of stain all over them, next to the sturdy S'chn T’gai family slippers undoubtedly crafted and worn with care and purpose. His big toenail threatens to tear the material. Jim resolves to purchase slippers of his own in the city tomorrow. He stretches his toes out to understand the texture of the tile under their feet and he yells at any lingering anxiety of emotion to scram. Well. _When on Vulcan…._

It’s everything a shore leave is supposed to be, honestly. Jim and Spock end up working quietly in Amanda’s garden beds, pruning and harvesting fresh herbs for their dinner. Jim kneels on the ground to maintain his balance and focus, but Spock is bobbing up and down, practically gliding through his tasks around the space with the familiarity of home. 

Amanda had shown Jim what to do, but the plants here feel halfway homely and halfway foreign and his explorer’s mind hums contentedly in this new space. He rubs a thumb across a leaf absentmindedly and it curls into itself in the palm of his hand. Maybe this is what it’s like to be Vulcan? To condense into your base components while retaining every aspect of yourself, skidding carefully into the world and finding yourself outside of it?

“I don’t think I’d make a very good Vulcan,” he says, apropos of nothing.

“On the contrary, Jim,” Spock replies from behind the shas-savas bush, “your ambition and dedication are remarkably Vulcan in nature. Given a proper upbringing, I am certain you would have been able to adapt to our lifestyle.”

Jim smiles gently, half to himself and half to the leaf now slowly releasing itself back across his hand. “If only,” he mutters.

In lieu of a response Spock stands easily, the movement rustling his robes. He walks over to where Jim is kneeling and surveys the garden bed he has been working in. Jim looks up—if that isn’t a sight to behold, and it isn’t—to see Spock’s face soften into something, maybe unexpected inquiry, maybe _fondness_ , and he shifts his gaze from the plants to Jim and the expression stays.

“I found this specimen to be quite fascinating in my youth,” he says, falling again into a low squat beside Kirk. “I was unaware that my mother had planted any.”

Shifting his weight back into his toes, Jim stands, locking eyes with Spock as his knees crack on the way up. “Perhaps,” he muses, “she planted them to demonstrate her love.”

“That would be most illogical,” Spock replies, “and considerably inefficient.”

Jim can’t help but grin at that. “Are you done with your tasks?” he asks. “It’s getting too dark for me to see out here.”

He is answered only with a raised eyebrow, and follows Spock to the same sliding door they entered the garden from. Instead of opening the door like Jim expects, Spock stops suddenly, and Jim stumbles to keep himself from running into the Vulcan. It doesn’t entirely work--the wrist not holding their basket of produce makes brief contact with Spock’s as he reaches out to a space beyond the door--and Jim takes a few steps back as an adjustment. 

There is a small button on the wall, Jim notices, difficult to see in this lighting. “You forget, Jim, that my mother is also human,” he says simply, and presses it.

Jim spins on his heel at the sound of a brief electrical hum to a garden illuminated by mellow lights flush with the pathways, carefully placed to best illuminate the flagstone, or raised beds Jim now knows are herbs, or the flowering vines climbing trellises on the outer walls. It’s a place of beauty, truly, and so when he turns back to his friend and hears “You are welcome to return here whenever you desire,” a sense of peace sinks deep into his soul.

“Thank you, Spock,” Jim says quietly. The Vulcan only nods. “Now, I know we just got here, but I’ve had some ideas about our issue….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think so far! and come bother me on tumblr @ lieutenant-kyle :)  
> not that this story was ever going to be logical but don’t worry that they’re taking all the wrong steps bc at the end of the day this whole intrigue is like a tortilla chip and k/s cute quiet moments on vulcan is the salsa. yes i know how the story ends. no i don’t know how we’ll get there. much love, hope you enjoyed, happy new year if i don’t see you first!

**Author's Note:**

> i'm really excited about this story, but my motivation to write comes in short, intense bursts! this _will_ be finished... eventually. bug me about it on tumblr (lieutenant-kyle)!


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